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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787548">a little bit scared (of what comes after)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonbagel/pseuds/dragonbagel'>dragonbagel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>gimme shelter [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e18-21 Sozin's Comet, zuko got electrocuted he is...not okay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 08:29:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonbagel/pseuds/dragonbagel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The war wasn’t supposed to end like this.</p><p>Ozai is still alive—unable to bend, but infuriatingly not dead—and half the bones in Sokka’s leg are fractured and Toph is still trembling from almost falling to her death and Zuko...Zuko’s barely breathing.</p><p>or: they won, but at what cost?</p><p>(can be read as a stand-alone!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iroh &amp; Sokka (Avatar), Iroh &amp; Zuko (Avatar), Katara &amp; Sokka (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>gimme shelter [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1325</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a little bit scared (of what comes after)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thank you to @daisythedoodledog for the idea of writing zuko/sokka reunion, i said lemme take this and add some Angst</p><p>can be read as a stand-alone! title is from ‘jesus christ’ by brand new</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The war wasn’t supposed to end like this.</p><p>The Avatar was supposed to kill the Fire Lord and restore balance. Zuko and Katara were supposed to subdue Azula together. Sokka, Suki and Toph were supposed to take down the airships and emerge unscathed.</p><p>But Ozai is still alive—unable to bend, but infuriatingly not dead—and half the bones in Sokka’s leg are fractured and Toph is still trembling from almost falling to her death and Zuko...Zuko’s barely breathing.</p><p>It wasn’t supposed to end like this.</p><p>“How is he?” Sokka asks for the millionth time that hour.</p><p>Ever since Suki and Toph had helped him to hobble into the infirmary, he’s refused to leave Zuko’s side. This means that, by extension, he’s also refused to leave <em> Katara’s </em>side, and his sister has had no qualms about letting him know exactly how she feels about it.</p><p>“Sokka, he's the same as he was two minutes ago.”</p><p>Sokka nods. “So then when will he wake up?”</p><p>Katara groans, the healing water glowing even brighter with her irritation. “I told you, Sokka: <em> I. Don’t. Know.” </em></p><p>Sokka wrings his hands, watching the shallow rise and fall of Zuko’s chest beneath Katara’s hands. </p><p>He decides, officially, that this is <em> bullshit</em>.</p><p>“Where’s Azula?”</p><p>Katara frowns at him. “You know I can’t tell you that.”</p><p>“Where is she?!” he shouts, rising angrily to his feet. He only lasts a few seconds before his broken leg buckles, and he falls back into his chair.</p><p>His face heats up, and he is suddenly very glad that Toph and Suki had gone searching for Aang before they could see Sokka embarrass himself.</p><p>“You should let me heal that,” Katara says.</p><p>“No,” he growls. He’s already refused her offer multiple times, because he can deal with normal, non-magic healing as long as it means Zuko gets help. Besides, the splint the royal healers had set his leg in wasn’t half bad.</p><p>“Quit looking at me like that,” he snaps.</p><p>“Like what?” Katara asks, none of the usual childish sass accompanying it.</p><p>“Like—like I’m some sort of charity case! I don’t need your pity.”</p><p>Katara’s expression hardens as she retracts her hands, curling them into angry fists. The water returns to its usual transparency, pooling on top of the massive burn in the center of Zuko’s chest.</p><p>“If you’re going to be rude, go do it somewhere else. <em> I’m </em>actually trying to help him!”</p><p>“Like you were supposed to help him fight Azula?” Sokka’s fully aware he’s yelling, and can’t find it in himself to care. “If you’d just done your job, maybe he wouldn’t have had to jump in front of <em> fucking lightning </em>for you!”</p><p>Katara recoils as if she’s been slapped. “How <em> dare </em> you! <em> I </em>didn’t make him accept the Agni Kai. Spirits, I tried to talk him out of it!”</p><p>Agni Kai. Zuko had fought Azula in an Agni Kai. It wasn’t a heat-of-battle leap of protectiveness that saved Katara—that left Zuko still spasming with electric aftershocks—as he’d presumed from her shaky, tear-filled explanation upon their reunion.</p><p>“They—an Agni Kai?” His voice is thin, unsteady.</p><p>“It’s some sort of firebending duel. It’s barbaric, honestly, fighting over honor and—“</p><p>“I know what an Agni Kai is,” Sokka rasps.</p><p>He thinks of another duel within these same palace walls, four long years ago. Of a younger Zuko, forced to fight a man thrice his age—not just a man, his <em> father</em>, someone who should show him nothing but kindness, least of all a fistfull of flames. And now, Zuko has been marred by the fire of another person he once trusted.</p><p>Sokka imagines looking down at his chest and seeing a scar from Katara, of looking at his reflection and seeing a mark his father inflicted.</p><p>He feels sick.</p><p>“I need to go,” Sokka says, fumbling for his crutches.</p><p>“Sokka, wait!”</p><p>“I’m sorry, okay? Just focus on healing him.”</p><p>He leaves before Katara can reply.</p>
<hr/><p>Sokka realizes approximately five steps out of the door that he has no idea where he’s going. The halls are intimidating, looming over him with dark, arched ceilings and crimson tapestries. The regalia on the walls looks far too much like blood for Sokka’s liking.</p><p>The rhythmic tapping of his crutches echoes as he slowly inches onward, but the few guards posted outside Zuko’s quarters pay him no mind. He wonders how long they’ll stand watch for; he wonders how long it will be until Zuko is conscious enough to defend himself again.</p><p>Because he <em> will </em>be okay. He has to be. They didn’t fight this war only to fail just past the finish line.</p><p>Sokka’s arms quickly grow tired, the already sore muscles screaming in protest as he pushes himself forwards. But he can’t rest; it’s not fair, not when Zuko’s fighting for his life just a few rooms over.</p><p>He manages to reach one of the opulent columns lining the edges of the corridor, easing the pressure off of his arms and onto the marble behind his back. His weight balances firmly on his non-fucked-up leg, and without the pain radiating from his other shin, Sokka feels untethered.</p><p>“I see my nephew is not the only one with a proclivity for hiding behind these pillars.”</p><p>Sokka is quick to straighten his back, trying to bow to the best of his ability without dropping his crutches or falling on his face. “General Iroh.”</p><p>“Please, do not bother with such formalities. Just ‘Uncle’ is fine.”</p><p>Sokka nods, raising his gaze to meet Iroh’s. The man’s eyes are rimmed in red, the laugh lines usually belying his aged skin pulled taut. Nonetheless, he offers Sokka a small smile.</p><p>“Of course,” Sokka says. He tries to smile back, but his muscles can’t seem to make the motion.</p><p>“Come, walk with me.”</p><p>Iroh keeps a slow pace, stopping every so often to give Sokka a chance to catch his breath. They eventually reach a courtyard, surrounded by the palace on all sides. Blossoming trees line the stone pathway beneath their feet, tapering off as they approach the main clearing. A circle of white granite lies at the courtyard’s center, decorated with ornate beds of red and orange flowers.</p><p>“Let us sit,” Iroh says, leading Sokka over to a cast iron table.</p><p>He pulls out one of the chairs, cushioned with a pillow embroidered with the Fire Nation insignia, and holds out his arm for Sokka to use for balance as he sits down.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“Do not mention it,” Iroh says, taking the seat across from him. “Would you like some tea?”</p><p>Sokka doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he’s pretty sure he’ll throw up anything he manages to choke down right now, so Iroh calls a servant over to make his request. Moments later, a tray of tea and saucers is set down between them.</p><p>“Thank you, ma’am,” Iroh says with a small bow as he fills the two teacups.</p><p>Sokka holds the steaming cup between his hands; somehow, despite the heat outside, he still feels cold.</p><p>“Has Zuko ever told you about his cousin, Lu Ten?”</p><p>Sokka looks up, caught off guard by the strange vulnerability in Iroh’s voice; he’s never heard him sound anything but assured.</p><p>He shakes his head. Iroh takes a sip of tea before continuing.</p><p>“Years ago, I had a son. He was my pride and joy. And when he was deployed with his own battalion, I was thrilled.”</p><p>Iroh pauses for another drink; this time, when his lips leave the rim of the porcelain cup, they are pressed into a thin line.</p><p>“I have done many things in my life that I regret, but leading the siege on Ba Sing Se that cost my son his life is one of my greatest shames.”</p><p>Sokka joins him in his next sip of tea, letting the blend of herbs and flowers soak into his taste buds. <em> Jasmine, </em> his mind supplies. <em> Zuko’s favorite. </em></p><p>“After Lu Ten died, I abandoned my post as general. I became so lost in my grief that I was blind to my brother’s cruelty, especially towards his son.”</p><p>Iroh’s lips curl into a sad smile. “Zuko was always fond of this garden. Ursa used to take him here to feed the turtle-ducks.”</p><p>“Ursa?”</p><p>“My sister-in-law,” Iroh clarifies. “After her… disappearance, I would spend afternoons here with Zuko. I taught him how to play Pai Sho.”</p><p>Sokka can’t help but snort. “No offense, but Zuko can’t play Pai Sho for shit.”</p><p>Iroh chuckles. “That boy has always been too rash for strategy.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “We’ll be fine, Sokka. The two of us can take her.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “If anything happens, I’ll kick your ass.” </em>
</p><p><em> Zuko had laughed, cupping Sokka’s face and giving him a soft kiss. “And if anything happens to </em> you, <em> I’ll kick yours.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Is that a promise?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sokka closes his eyes, feeling the ghost of Zuko’s lips on his. He doesn’t much feel like discussing pai sho anymore.</p><p>“How was he,” he asks slowly, “when you saw him?”</p><p>Iroh hums, staring into his tea. “Your sister is a very talented healer.”</p><p>Sokka sets his cup down quite a bit harder than necessary. Some of the tea sloshes over the side, spilling onto the table and splashing his hand. The liquid should be scalding; Sokka doesn’t feel a thing.</p><p>“You didn’t answer my question.”</p><p>“This is not the first time my nephew has reached death’s doorstep. I do not expect it to be the last.”</p><p>It’s becoming infuriatingly clear to Sokka, now, that maybe Zuko’s adolescent rage came from more than just his own temper.</p><p>“The truth is, young Sokka,” Iroh continues after a moment, “I do not know.”</p><p>Iroh closes his eyes at the admission, dragging in a deep inhale and letting it go with a wisp of smoke from his nostrils. It’s the same breathing exercise Sokka has seen Zuko practice whenever he needs to center himself (or when Aang called him ‘Sifu Hotman,’ or Katara splashed him with her bending water, or Toph made one too many jokes about the specific ‘vibrations’ she felt coming from Sokka’s tent).</p><p>In other words, it’s a common sight—one that Sokka would kill to witness again right about now. The clench of his jaw, the jerk of his shoulders, the unfairly attractive sparks on the exhale… Sokka used to tell Zuko that he wouldn’t know relaxation even if it bit him in the ass.</p><p>But now, the thought of Zuko, cold and still and so unbelievably pale against the maroon sheets just fills Sokka with dread. He vows then and there to never comment on the omnipresent tension in Zuko’s body (because even if it’s annoying as hell, it means he’s <em> alive). </em></p><p>“Would you care to play a game of Pai Sho? I hear you are quite the strategist.”</p><p>There is not a single cell in Sokka’s battered body that wants to play Pai Sho; he’s only just starting to get good at the whole brooding thing that Zuko is so great at, after all.</p><p>But the desperation in Iroh’s eyes is clear, and Sokka is reminded once again that for all he cares for Zuko, Iroh has been in his life infinitesimally longer.</p><p>“Sure,” Sokka says.</p><p>“Wonderful.”</p><p>Iroh calls for a servant to bring them a board (and more tea, of course) and passes Sokka a pouch of tiles. The burgundy velvet is incredibly soft in Sokka’s hands as he carefully dumps the tiles onto the table in front of him. The pieces are, much like everything in the palace, beautifully decorated. Golden symbols are inlaid in black marble, glinting in the rays of the setting sun.</p><p>Iroh, somehow having already sorted his tiles into neat stacks in front of him, makes the first move. He smiles at Sokka, who is now beginning to realize with a sense of dread that half of the rules Aang and Toph taught him were probably actually tricks to make him lose.</p><p>Tentatively, Sokka places a tile on the board, looking to Iroh for confirmation that the placement was legal and, more importantly, not laughably idiotic. Iroh simply nods, and Sokka relaxes.</p><p>The sun sets as they continue to play, and Iroh lights the lanterns scattered around them with a flick of his wrist. It’s impressive—nearly as impressive as the fact that Sokka actually trusts that Iroh <em> didn’t </em> use the firebending as a distraction so that he could subtly switch around Sokka’s tiles. The buzzing of cicada-crickets fills the air, which is otherwise silent save for the clinking of tiles and slurping of tea. (Well, of <em> Sokka </em> slurping his tea; Iroh is apparently far too classy.)</p><p>They make it through a few rounds (which Sokka is almost completely certain that Iroh lets him win) before another servant enters the courtyard, walking briskly towards them.</p><p>“Sirs,” he says, bowing. “Your presence has been requested in Prince Zuko’s chambers.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Iroh says; Sokka doesn’t think he can speak around the anxious lump in his throat.</p><p>Iroh stands as the servant takes his leave, retrieving Sokka’s crutches and helping him to stand. Together, they begin the trek back inside.</p><p>Sokka can tell that Iroh is just as nervous as he is, if not more. He can also tell that keeping pace with his one-footed hobbling is slowing him down.</p><p>“You can go ahead,” he says. “I’ll meet you there.”</p><p>Iroh shakes his head. “No. We will make this journey together.”</p><p>Sokka has a sinking feeling that he’s not just talking about the walk.</p>
<hr/><p>The guards wave them inside when they reach the massive set of doors, and Sokka takes a moment to steel himself before following Iroh inside. He first spots Katara, still wearing her blue tunic, resting on a small couch near Zuko’s bed. She appears asleep, which means she’s not healing Zuko, which means she’s either given up or—</p><p>“Uncle?”</p><p>Zuko’s voice is raspier than usual, quieter too. It’s the most beautiful thing Sokka has ever heard.</p><p>“Nephew,” Iroh says, hurrying to Zuko’s side and wrapping him in a hug.</p><p>Zuko grunts as he’s jostled, and Iroh pulls back, giving him a once-over. The noise wakes Katara, who sits up, rubbing her eyes.</p><p>“You’re awake,” she says, the bleariness in her eyes clearing as she smiles at Zuko.</p><p>“Thanks to you.”</p><p>Iroh, who has hopefully realized by now that if he tries to move Zuko again he’ll face Katara’s wrath, puts a comforting hand on Zuko’s bare shoulder.</p><p>“How are you feeling?” he asks.</p><p>“Like I just got shot full of lightning.”</p><p>“Ha ha,” Katara says drily. “I swear, you’re the worst patient ever.”</p><p>“I thought that was my title!”</p><p>Zuko’s eyes snap over to him at his outburst, widening. “Sokka?” he breathes.</p><p>Sokka can’t stop himself from scurrying to his side, busted leg be damned.</p><p>“Hey,” he says quietly, brushing Zuko’s hair out of his face.</p><p>“What happened to your leg?”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Sokka says, rolling his eyes; of <em>course </em>Zuko would immediately ask about him, even after nearly dying.</p><p>Zuko frowns. “Why didn’t Katara heal you?”</p><p>“Because she was saving your life, you asshole!”</p><p>Zuko goes silent for a moment, averting his gaze. “Oh.”</p><p>Sokka sighs. “I was just...Tui and La, you scared the shit out of me. Don’t you <em> ever </em>do that again!”</p><p>“No promises.”</p><p>Sokka groans, pointedly ignoring Katara’s protests as he climbs into the bed beside Zuko. “C’mere, idiot.”</p><p>He gently guides Zuko’s face towards him, and presses a kiss to his lips. If Iroh is surprised, he doesn’t show it. Sokka, on the other hand, is <em>incredibly </em>surprised, because for once his sister doesn’t make the exaggerated gagging noise she usually does whenever he and Zuko show PDA.</p><p>“I thought you promised you wouldn’t get hurt,” Sokka says, rubbing his thumb lightly across Zuko’s unscarred cheek.</p><p>Zuko shrugs. “It’s not my fault Azula’s crazy.”</p><p>“You can say that again.”</p><p>Zuko chuckles, though it soon morphs into a pained cough.</p><p>“Alright,” Katara says, pushing herself up to stand. “I think it’s time for Zuko to get some rest.”</p><p>Sokka can’t help but snicker at Zuko’s full-on pout.</p><p>“Can they stay?”</p><p>Zuko looks between his uncle and Katara when he speaks, but it’s clear from the way he shyly takes Sokka’s hand that there’s only one person he’s truly asking permission for.</p><p>Iroh smiles at Sokka, a sly glint in his eye. “If it is alright with you, Nephew, I think I shall retire for the evening. I am not quite as spry as I used to be.”</p><p>He laughs, and Zuko rolls his eyes; the gesture is incredibly endearing.</p><p>Once Iroh has left the room, Zuko turns to Katara, beseeching her with eyes like a moose-lion cub. “So?”</p><p>She groans. “Fine, Sokka can stay. But I expect to see you two actually sleeping, so no funny business!”</p><p>“Sorry, Katara, but you know I always bring the funny with me.”</p><p>It is, objectively, a terrible joke, but Zuko still laughs, leaning into Sokka’s side.</p><p>“Yes, ma’am,” he says, closing his eyes with a sigh. He’s out within seconds, head lolling against Sokka’s shoulder.</p><p>“Thank you,” Sokka whispers, resting his chin on top of Zuko’s head. “I’m sorry for being a jerk earlier.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” Katara waves her hand, dismissing his compliment. “Now let me rest if you ever want that leg of yours healed.”</p><p>“Will do, sis,” Sokka says, gently squeezing Zuko’s hand and shifting closer to his warmth. “Will do.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading, please drop a comment/kudos if you enjoyed (&amp; check out the other works in this series if you’re interested)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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